


you can stand under my umbrella

by ProbablyVoldemort



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Chopped: The 100 Fanfic Challenge, Co-workers, F/M, Field Trip, Halloween, corn maze, pumpkin patch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27131329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProbablyVoldemort/pseuds/ProbablyVoldemort
Summary: Abandoning the children was definitely a no-no on field trips.  But does it really count when you're just completely, genuinely lost in a corn maze?ORAfter six years of working with him, Clarke still doesn't know Murphy's first name, and at this point its definitely too late to ask.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/John Murphy
Comments: 21
Kudos: 77
Collections: TROPED Choice: Horror





	you can stand under my umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> This is CHOPPED and we have TROPES!
> 
> Theme: Modern AU  
> Horror Trope: Corn Maze  
> Other Tropes:  
> \- Almost kiss/interrupted before kissing  
> \- Caught in a storm  
> \- Teacher!Character
> 
> We got Clurphy and we got awkwardness and we got Rihanna lyrics and we got slightly irresponsible field trip supervision. What more could you even ask for?

Clarke didn’t know Murphy’s first name, which wasn’t usually a problem. Sure, she taught the 2/3 split at Ark Elementary and he taught the 3/4, so they ended up doing a lot of field trips and collaboration together, but she could usually get away with not knowing his first name.

Needing to direct a kid to him? “Go talk to Mr. Murphy.”

Talking about him to another teacher? They all flipped between calling each other by their first and last names, anyway.

Anything outside of a school context? Well, it wasn’t like Clarke did much of anything ever. She didn’t need to know anyone’s first names to not hang out with them.

Not knowing his first name really wasn’t an issue 99% of the time.

(Yes, she’d known him for six years and probably should have learned his first name at some point there, but she was already judging herself and didn’t need anyone else’s judgement, thank you very much.)

It was only becoming an issue now because he’d asked her out, and she’d said yes.

She should probably know the first name of someone she was going on a date with, right?

Wells thought the situation was hilarious and was no help whatsoever.

“You should marry him,” was his only suggestion. “They’ll say his name at your wedding, right? You can find out then.”

She didn’t think it had to be said that she was not taking Wells’ advice.

Her tactic had been instead to try to sneak peeks at official documents, but that had only gotten her caught by the secretary and then she’d had to come up with some excuse that wasn’t “I don’t know the first name of the guy I’m going out with.”

(She didn’t have any idea what she’d spluttered out to Harper. It was all a blur that cumulated in running out of the office and then avoiding Harper for the day. No one ever said that Clarke made good decisions.)

So, as it was, she had reached the day of her first date with Murphy, and she still didn’t know his first name.

She’d also be spending the whole day before the date with him, too, because her mind had basically turned to mush when he’d asked and the fact that they were spending the entire day at the pumpkin patch had completely slipped her mind.

The grade four class was also there, along with their teacher, Jasper Jordan—see, Clarke knew _his_ first name—and a handful of parent volunteers. And, obviously, their combined forty-something kids. So it wasn’t like she was just spending the entire day alone with Murphy.

But she was still spending the entire day with Murphy at the same pumpkin patch where she could currently see seven couples being gross and in love and very obviously on dates.

So it was a thing.

“Griffin!”

She almost jumped at the sound of her voice—almost, because her Hunters were stuck in the mud that already seemed to be everywhere—and spun around, pasting a smile on her face.

“Mr. Murphy,” she greeted, smiling at the kids that were hanging off his arms. “How’s it going?”

“Great,” he said, adjusting his hold on the large pumpkin that was under his arm. “A group of the kids were wanting to do the corn maze. Wanna join?”

Clarke considered her options for a moment. The kids still in the pumpkin patch picking their pumpkins were few and far between—the pile of pumpkins under their designated backpack tent was definitely more than there were kids, but that would be dealt with when it was time to leave. She could see Jasper on the far side of the patch by the pumpkin catapult, cheering on the worker managing it with a large group of kids. The parent volunteers were milling about, some chatting by the snack station and others doing pumpkin related things.

So her options were either buy some hot apple cider and join Jasper in watching pumpkins being smashed, or join Murphy in the corn maze.

Ordinarily, Murphy would win by a landslide. Ark El had been her first position after finishing her teaching degree and Murphy had come a year later, and he’d been her best teaching friend ever since. Even when they’d had wildly different grades, they’d still gravitated towards each other during full school events and field trips.

But since Murphy had asked her out a few days ago, things had been weird between them. The tension that she’d always been able to ignore was suddenly all there was, and she couldn’t even wash her coffee mug in the staff room sink beside him without feeling like she was going to jump out of her skin.

But Murphy was staring at her, and she could tell that there was a part of him that really hoped she’d join him in the maze, and there was a part of her that knew that she was going to have to actually interact with and talk to him on their date tonight, so she might as well try in a controlled, child filled environment.

“I love corn mazes,” was what she settled on saying, and Murphy’s grin grew.

She phoned Jasper while he took his gaggle of kids to the backpack tent to relieve them of their pumpkins—the pumpkin patch was really big and really muddy so sue her for being lazy—and relayed that they were heading into the maze with some kids.

She flipped her umbrella over her shoulder as Murphy approached her again, having gained a larger following.

“Do you really think that’s necessary?” he asked, nodding at the umbrella.

“It’s supposed to pour,” she pointed out, taking a second to stare up at the black sky. “I’m being prepared.” She flipped her umbrella around and poked him in the toe of his muddy runners. “How’re these working for you?”

He made a face at her, then turned and started running. “Last one to the maze is a no good, dirty rotten pig stealer!”

 _Real mature_ , she thought, shaking her head fondly as she followed behind, her boots slopping in the mud.

“That’s from Holes,” Madi supplied helpfully, bouncing around in front of her, like Clarke hadn’t read Holes multiple times in her elementary education career.

“Thanks.”

They reached the entrance to the maze, and Madi took off yelling for Hope. Murphy had waited for her, leaning against the sign of corn maze rules and smirking at her.

“You’re a no good, dirty rotten pig stealer,” he pointed out, and she rolled her eyes, passing him as she entered the maze.

“Let’s get going before we lose the kids,” she told him, and then he was beside her again.

They were definitely too late for that already—she could hear the kids screaming somewhere up ahead, but the corn was way too dense for her to spot any of them—and she wondered if maybe it wasn't the best idea to be going into a, to quote a girl from a couple she’d seen an hour or so ago, _so fucking romantic_ corn maze with her co-worker that she was going to go on a date with tonight but was currently in co-worker mode with while supervising a bunch of children.

But what was done was done, so she instead walked in silence next to Murphy.

It wasn’t the comfortable silence they would usually fall into, but the weird, tense one that wouldn’t leave them alone lately. Clarke was far too aware of Murphy walking beside her, far too aware of how close the corn stalks were around them, far too aware of how alone they were.

And far too aware of how she didn’t even know his freaking first name.

Murphy seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he didn’t try to break the silence either for a long time.

Until he completely froze, leaving Clarke to discover a few steps later that he wasn’t following her anymore.

“Griffin, I think we’re lost,” he said, and Clarke glanced around.

“How can you even tell?” she asked him. “All the corn looks the same.”

“Yeah,” Murphy agreed, then kicked at something in the mud at the side of the path. “But we’ve gone past this shoe, like, twelve times.”

Clarke came closer, staring down at the shoe. She couldn’t say for sure, but it definitely looked familiar.

“Crabsticks,” she said, and Murphy laughed.

“I think this could probably call for a non-PG swear,” he pointed out, and Clarke told herself that she definitely didn’t feel embarrassed at all for swearing like an elementary teacher when she was completely alone with the guy she was definitely super into.

“Shut up,” she told him instead, turning around and starting down a random path. “The exit’s definitely this way.”

Murphy laughed, but followed her.

Clarke could feel the tension seeping back in, and searched for anything she could to keep them talking. There was no way she’d be able to concentrate on being not lost in a corn maze if she was too busy concentrating on the tension between them.

“So, Griffin,” Murphy said before she could say anything. “Watch anything good lately?”

And it was such a ridiculously mundane topic of conversation that she had to laugh, but she was willing to grab onto it. Anything to keep her from focusing on the fact that she was going to be going on a date with him tonight.

So she opened her mouth, hoping that something about a TV show or a movie would come out, but before she could say anything, the sky opened up.

“Ha!” she said pointedly, smirking at Murphy as she opened her umbrella. It was unfortunately not fast enough to keep her from getting completely drenched first. _Fridge magnets_ —by which she _definitely_ meant _fuck_ because there was no way she was going to admit that she PG swore inside her head, too—it was raining hard. “Who’s looking stupid now?”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Murphy said, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head.

As much as she loved gloating in the safety of her umbrella as the rain crashed down around her, Murphy was looking a little sad. His runners were definitely soaked through, and she contemplated rubbing it in about his lack of gumboots, too.

Instead, she decided that she could be nice.

“You can come under,” she offered, shifting her hold on her umbrella to give him more room. “But you’d better make it worth my while.”

He stared at her for a moment, eyes darkening, and Clarke had to remind herself that they were on a field trip and that whatever she was getting out of this would be as PG as her swears.

“Two desserts,” he finally said, grinning at her as rain dripped down his face. “I’ll buy you any two desserts you want on our date tonight.”

“Deal,” Clarke said, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say right then.

Because Murphy’s mentioning of their date definitely reminded her that they were having a date tonight.

And she still didn’t know his freaking first name.

He crowded under her umbrella, far too close for her to be thinking properly, and started down the path again.

When they’d passed the lost shoe three more times, Clarke huffed and forced them to stop.

“Hold this,” she told Murphy, thrusting the umbrella into his hands. She dug around in her pocket and fished out her phone, eyes widening as she realized they’d been in the maze for the better part of an hour and that she had multiple concerned texts from Jasper.

She crowded closer to Murphy when the rain hit her arm, and dialed their co-chaperone.

 _“Ms. Griffin, you’re alive!”_ Jasper answered, and she could hear cheering going through whatever kids were gathered around him. _“Where did you and Mr. Murphy disappear to? All the kids came back a long time ago.”_

“We’re lost,” Clarke said, which was probably one of the most humiliating things she’d ever had to admit. “Like absurdly, going in circles, never getting out of here lost.”

Jasper cackled on the other end, and she heard him muffledly telling the students that they’d gotten lost, and then the not-so-quiet sound of all the kids laughing at them.

 _“Try not to die,”_ Jasper said, and then hung up.

“Super helpful,” Clarke said, pocketing her phone and taking the umbrella back. “Let’s keep going. We can’t be stuck here forever, right?”

Murphy shrugged. “You never know,” he said, and then they were back to the quiet that was quickly creeping towards the weird territory.

They’d been talking about something earlier. Clarke knew that had been. But, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was.

But they were lost in a freaking corn maze and it was raining and they were soaked and cold and all Clarke really wanted in life right now was some of that hot apple cider, but that was an impossible goal if they never made it out of the maze, and they couldn’t make it out of the maze unless they could concentrate on the maze and not the dumb tension.

So she blurted out the first topic that came to mind.

“I don’t know your name.”

Murphy was staring at her, and she refused to look at him, quickening her steps like she could outrun her words.

“What?”

“It’s so freaking awkward,” she continued, laughing a little. “But I realized at some point that I have no idea what your first name is but we’ve past the point of no return with asking without it being weird, so I’ve just been dealing with it. But now we’re going out, and Wells said I should just marry you and then they’d have to say your name at the wedding and I told him it was a dumb idea but I honestly haven’t thought of anything better and—and I’m gonna stop talking now.”

Murphy was laughing, and Clarke was pretty sure that anyone who was looking for them could use her face as a Rudolph-esque beacon to find them.

“That’s great,” he told her, and Clarke was pretty sure that was a lie because there was no way that her not knowing his first name was great. She chanced a look at him, though, and he was grinning widely at her, his hair slicked down from the rain. “I don’t know your first name, either.”

She laughed, too, all the fear she’d had surrounding that secret disappearing.

“We’re a mess,” she told him, absently aware that they’d stopped walking. She stuck out her hand, the one that wasn’t holding the umbrella. “Hi. Clarke Griffin. Nice to meet you.”

Murphy chuckled as he shook her hand. “John Murphy,” he introduced, then grimaced. “But no one’s called me John since grade three, so please don’t try to bring that back.”

She noticed that he hadn’t let go of her hand, just twisted their fingers around from a position that could be excused as shaking to one that was definitely hand holding.

“Why not?” she asked. “You don’t want to be Johnny?”

Murphy grimaced again. “Definitely not.”

Something had snapped within Clarke at the realization that not only did Murphy not know her name, either, but that the reason she didn’t know his first name was that no one called him it, and suddenly all she wanted to do was tease him about it.

“Oh!” she said, as the idea struck her. “Do you have a costume yet for the Greens’ party? We could totally be Baby and Johnny from Dirty Dancing. You wouldn’t even need to dress up!”

“Yeah, no.” Murphy’s hand squeezed her own as he shook his head, a grin fighting its way onto his face. “We’re not gonna announce that we’re in a relationship to everyone with a couples costume a day after our first date. Maybe next year.”

Something swooped in Clarke’s gut at the implication that they’d still be together next Halloween, and she stepped a little bit closer in the small space under her umbrella.

“ _Are_ we in a relationship?” she asked

Murphy spluttered for a moment, then threw the hand that wasn’t holding hers into the air. “I don’t know!” he said, shaking his head. “We haven’t even had a date yet!”

Clarke paused, swallowed, and then licked her suddenly dry lips, catching how Murphy’s eyes followed the movement.

“This kind of feels like a date,” she admitted softly, and he stepped a little closer.

“Does it?”

Clarke shrugged. “I dunno,” she said. “Corn maze. Rain. Your completely impractical shoes getting soaked with mud. No screaming children around. It’s kinda romantic.”

His hand left hers, and for a moment Clarke was afraid she’d said the wrong thing. But then his fingers wove through hers on the handle of her umbrella, squeezing softly.

“I don’t think a field trip should count as a date,” he said, a little more practically than she wanted him to be thinking.

“Why not?” Clarke asked, searching his eyes. “We’ve already been lost without any of the kids we’re supposed to be watching for like an hour. It’s not like not calling it a date would make us any less lost.”

“Well then,” Murphy said, voice low, and Clarke felt her eyes drawn to his lips as he shifted closer. “If it’s a date, I can do this.”

Her eyes fell closed as they shifted closer. She could feel his breath on her lips, could feel their noses brushing, and—

“Mr. Jordan, I found them!”

They leapt apart far too quickly to be subtle, the umbrella flying out of both their hands—and Clarke thanked everything that they were teaching primaries and not intermediates. Grade two to fours wouldn’t notice anything up, but grade sixes would be spreading rumours so fast that Clarke and Murphy would have been married for six years with a baby on the way by the time they made it back to school.

The man standing behind the kids, with a shit eating grin on his face and his arms crossed over his chest, however, was less easy to fool.

“How did you get here so fast?” Clarke asked, scrambling for her umbrella and trying to act casual. Unfortunately, her umbrella had landed upside down, and she just ended up dumping a ridiculous amount of water onto her head.

“It’s really not that hard of a maze,” Jasper said. “You were, like, four turns in.”

“Shut up,” Murphy said, and, even though Clarke couldn’t look at him, she could tell he was just as flustered as she was. She could hear him stalking off down a path, probably chosen at random. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You’re going the wrong way,” Charlotte informed him, and Murphy changed his direction to follow her.

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for them to make it out of the maze. It was even more embarrassing that all the kids and the parent volunteers cheered for them when the emerged from the exit, but Clarke took it in stride, urging her kids to start gathering their things. Everyone already had a pumpkin and it was far too wet to justify staying longer and risking everyone getting miserable. The buses had stayed in the parking lot, anyway, so it wasn’t even putting anyone out of their way to leave early.

She couldn’t look at Murphy or Jasper as they packed up and piled onto the bus, too sure her face would light up if she made eye contact with either of them, but she did allow herself one grateful smile at Murphy when he pushed a cup of hot apple cider into her hands.

An hour or so later, Clarke was finally alone. Her legs were freezing, but the Little Red Riding Hood costume she’d worn for the costume parade that morning before the field trip had been the only dry clothes she’d had.

She’d taken the easy route by putting on a movie when they’d gotten back, all the kids changing back into their costumes, too. They had a choice between that or their change of clothes, but, really, what kid would rather wear old sweat pants over a princess dress?

The movie wasn’t just a time killer. Her class was off the walls once they returned, a combination of field trip high, Friday jitters, _we’re all wearing costumes_ , and _it’s Halloween tomorrow_ making for a not so productive working environment.

So _Scared Shrekless_ it was.

But now the kids were gone, collected by parents or bus drivers or shipped down the hall to after school care, and she was alone.

Technically, she was supposed to be finishing putting things from the week into the computer system, but mostly she was just blankly staring at the screen and thinking about her date tonight.

“Hello, _Clarke_.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Murphy swept into her room, stressing the fact that he now knew her first name, his Batman cape flowing behind him. It seemed he hadn’t had a spare, non-costume change of clothes, either, and she was a little jealous because the pants and the padded muscles were definitely adding warmth.

“Hey, _Johnny_ ,” she returned, looking back down at her computer, like his presence barely phased her. “I’ve got some stuff to finish up, but I’ll see you at the restaurant, okay?”

“Sure,” Murphy agreed, suddenly much closer than he’d been before she looked down. “I just gotta finish something first.”

She looked up then, because she needed to figure out what he could possibly have to finish in her classroom, but then he was right there, inches from her face. 

And then his lips were on hers and they were kissing and _fridge magnets_ why hadn’t they done this sooner?

There should probably have been a part of her pointing out that they shouldn’t be doing this at school, but the majority of her just really didn’t care because this was all she’d been thinking about since the kids and Jasper interrupted them in the maze.

It was over too soon, but they were still in her classroom, so it was probably a good length for it to have ended on. But, _god,_ she wanted to do that again. And soon.

She couldn’t do anything but sit there grinning at him like an idiot while he grinned back, until she managed to gather enough wits to lightly shove him away.

“I have work to do,” she scolded him, gesturing vaguely at her computer. “I’ll see you at the restaurant.”

“Can’t wait,” he said, and then was gone with another sweep of his cape.

Even with him gone, all she could think about was how gooey and gross and amazing his smile was after they’d kissed, and it didn’t take her long to realize that she wasn’t getting anything done tonight. It could wait until Monday.

She locked up her classroom as she left, waving to Harper in the office and putting up her umbrella as she stepped outside. The rain was still coming down and the wind had started to pick up, and she wondered if the power was going to go out. Power outages were romantic, right? Candles and cuddling for warmth and everything? Should she even be thinking about that before the first date?

Jasper was still sitting in his truck next to her car, and Clarke waved to him as she opened her door.

He rolled down his window and stuck his head out.

“Have fun on your date!” he yelled over the rain in a singsong voice. “I’m expecting something more couple-y tomorrow because Little Red and Batman is really slacking!”

Clarke spluttered for a moment, a combination of the shock and the rain pouring down her face now that she’d put down her umbrella, and Jasper just gave her another grin before backing out of his parking space faster than she could find the words to ask him how he’d known about the date.

She glanced down at her clothes, her costume thoroughly soaked through even with her jacket, and realized that Jasper was right in that she’d have to find a new costume by the party tomorrow.

She was pretty sure she had a pink dress in her closet somewhere, and was also pretty sure she’d be willing to do whatever it took to get Murphy into a Johnny costume.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments and kudos bring me joy!


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